By Naftaly C. Sitompul, 25
“This way, Dad! Turn this way now!”
I called out to him as we danced in front of the television. He happily took my lead. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
After some foot-thumping (and heart-pumping) moment, Dad dropped onto the couch and pant, “Ok, let’s take a five minutes break. We’ll start dancing again after that!”
Five minutes later, Dad couldn’t get up again. Mum realized that something was wrong. She called for an ambulance.
The next day, while in the midst of a lesson, I was called out of the class and told to go home.
He died. My best friend died. The person I looked to in times of need, died. My superman’s gone.
As I sipped my pumpkin latte, alone in the Starbucks’ crowd, I realized that the memory of that fateful day still cuts like a knife.
I remembered being anorexic.
I remembered trying to numb my body and soul so as to dull the pain in my heart.
I remembered having to slowly pick up the pieces of my life again.
I remembered every tear I shed which I asked God to wipe away.
I remembered trying to get up from falling down.
I remembered failing to get the scholarship to study in America.
I remembered getting offered the scholarship again.
I remembered waving good-bye to my family and loved ones, as I left for America.
I remembered God granted me wisdom to ace my exams every semester.
I remembered what it took to live on from then to now and I thank God for every single tear that He turns into laughter and for every thorn that leads to a rose.
Through it all, I have come to realize that our Sovereign God is the real Superman.
When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. — Isaiah 43:2-3 —